Martin dreams of summer [A sci-fi short diary] - Memories
Memory log #21873
The Kraken wakes.
That's just a fancy name I've given to my trusted ship. I'm on a slow descent to Earth with all my trajectory parameters in their place, and yet the ship's shivering with an uncanny thrum. I check the heat shields - intact. The drag coefficient is just what it should be at the ionosphere's skirt. Martin seems unperturbed with all the thrumming, in fact, he's smiling. "Oi, what's up with that smile? Can you feel the shivering? Man, I'm terrified." Martin nods and stares out into the red-hot blanket that separates us from the great blue marble now.
13 years, 10 months and 08 days.
Out in the desolation beyond the Oort cloud, separated from every arm of civilization that I know. That's how long it really was, on Earth, and on my ship's log.
And now look into my eyes and tell me it hasn't been a lifetime. I reckon sailors lost in the sea would conjure images of cities in the fog. The world outside my viewport was as clear a vision of truth as you could afford - desolate, star studded, cold. With an occasional sighting of the Jovian planets and their moons, the stark isolation of this life made its presence felt in every thought i had of home. I belonged out there. The beauty of my ordinary white walls in an ordinary neighborhood, was truly striking against the darkness outside. I should stop.
"Houston checking in, how do the vitals look Sam?"
"Uh..yeah, all clear. There's this thrumming I can't pin down though. I think it's somewhere in the cargo hold..confirm a remote scan please"
"Uh huh, well we don't see anything out of the ordinary here, but I'll get back to you. Standby"
Two minutes feel like two hours. The blue shroud below is now wide in my view. We've passed the inferno. I look over at Martin. His first time on Earth. I try to imagine how it must feel. A visitor to your own home.
All these years of alienation, and i still can't manage to alienate my life on Earth. Sure, everything's changed. The streets are different, the music's gone for the worse, the climate's stabilizing now, and so on. You know, the usual "Return of the Native" trope. But out there, beyond the tug of my Rocky world, everything can be questioned. My language, my sight, my life - nothing is a mystery in the face of that infinite wardrobe unfolding outside the glass panes.
My mission was supposed to be a recon detail. The newspapers covered every bit of the journey, right from the thermal anomaly to the intergovernmental mission, to the actual mission blueprint down to the last dot. My life was dissected and possibly still continues to be, however Martin says I'm being too cocky. Maybe, but imagine the entire world doubts the sanity of this mission and even you, out there in the heart of darkness, hunting for an elusive signal to upend civilization as we know it.
Well, nothing was found, at least not the end of the world. Our discovery surely will make waves once declassified, and I'm sure you'll hear it all in the news channels and papers, but I can assure you, none of it matters. Nope.
The real discovery is not in the box. The real discovery is what got me back home.
When my primary thruster had failed during the homing burn just beyond Neptune, NASA had scrambled into panic mode. All contingencies were raised, and Artemis Homebase Alpha had begun prepping an emergency launch to intercept my ship on its hyperbolic trajectory beyond the solar system. Big stretch, but that's all we could've done. Unless something fixed the issue for us, like magic.
I don't know where he came from, but when his ship lined up against mine, I felt no fear. Like a long-forgotten friend, he docked in and took control of my ship, performing multiple EVAs and replacing my thruster with his own. I stood by like a mute spectator, while this strange, steel-faced man saved my life and the mission, and merely sat back and smiled.
"You're well on your intended path to your home. But my thruster has its own firmware, which you do not know. So, I'm going to guide you home, and then return to my ship out here. Do you understand?"
I did. And i didn't.
"Houston checking in, Sam come in.. Sam.."
"Y-yeah, what's up?"
"Okay we're very confused here, but we're detecting a second lifeform in the living quarters. The CO2 spikes are rapid and leading out of the cargo bay door into the living room. Did you see anything out there?"
I slam my forehead. I hadn't told them about Martin yet.
"Oh yeah, yeah, no don't worry about it. My thruster was fixed by this guy, Martin, out there during the blackout. I couldn't tell you before, yeah, he's out there in the living bay watching me now. Please prep a second quarantine for him."
Silence.
And then the radio crackles.
"Sam, prepare the landing protocol now, and suit up."
The next few minutes pass by like clockwork. Reverse thrusters engaged, roll stabilized, pitch nominal, homing beacon works fine.
The splash shakes my entire ship up like a blender. I can hear the helicopters whirring beyond the pad, and I descend into the landing bay. Martin's up there suiting up. I don't know how he's gonna fare in our Atmospheric pressure, but i reckon he'll adjust.
The door opens, the landing gear clicks and disengages, and Earth opens up before my eyes.
I take a deep breath in. No, no flowers. Only burnt kerosene and a strange nauseating smell. I feel lightheaded, weak and about to collapse. I hold on to the rails, and stare at the pad, and my mind goes blank.
An army of yellow suited and heavily armed soldiers surround my ship. They yell at me to get back inside. A couple of them sprays a strange liquid mist all over the ship.
I look back up the ladder. Martin's nowhere to be seen. I scramble up into the control room. The screens are all red and flash a warning sign:
"Biohazard"
I dial up Ground control. My hands are shivering, and my fingers feel odd.
"What the heck is this? Why do you have a lockdown in place? I'm in my suit damn it!"
My words turn into a slurry in my own. Saliva dribbles down my cheeks flush with anger now. I'm enraged beyond comprehension. I can't stay here anymore, i need to get out and finish my mission. I need to go back home.
"Sam. Sam?"
The speaker crackles to life, and i want to crush it and everyone beyond it.
"Sam, you're under a biohazard lockdown as we speak. The procedures will be detailed to you in a minute. You're requested to stay calm and finish up the set of primary tests with your kit. Do not, I repeat, do not climb out of the control room into the living room. These areas are locked down and any emergency bypass will be treated as an act of treason.
You are currently not alone, and as we ascertain the alien lifeform, we need you to finish up a psych report right now. Dr. Allen will lead you from here."
I stare at the mic in disbelief. These buttons, screens, chairs - everything feels so unreal. I look at my hands. A strange rigidity takes over my skin. Where have i been all these years? And where am I now?
My own people, alienating me over an "alien life form"?
I wonder what Martin has to say about all this. I bet he'll just smirk and nod.
I climb out of my chair with great difficulty. My legs are unnaturally solid now. I scramble over to the medical bay and take an emergency painkiller. A wave of calm rolls down to my feet.
I open the cabinet and look into the mirror, and stare into a strange, steely face. Martin smirks.
I smirk back.